Of Mouthwash and Men
by alien09
Summary: He sounds suspiciously underpriced for a prostitute. Booth's undercover operation isn't something he wished he was on.


**a/n: inspired by a 'law & order' episode I saw. Just for the record I have nothing against homosexuality – my best friends are flamboyant and proud of it.**

Booth could feel the gears grind underneath him as he drove. Up ahead, if he squinted, he could make out where Sweets and Brennan were parked in the shadows.

_There's no way this is going to end well. _

The case they were on involved a book, which of course had meant Brennan being completely insulted everytime they uncovered something new. He had caught a few words about integrity and published works but had quickly learnt to just nod at the appropriate times during her rants. It was a skill that he had honed over the years.

Currently, they were waiting to take down the _real _author of the book. The man on the jacket cover had been found dead at a pier a few days before. After some digging, Sweetness had turned out to be nothing more than a composite of a few homeless kids his agent had interviewed over the years and mashed together into a best-seller. One disgruntled obsessed fan later had led them to Andy Dale, who just so happened to be a male prostitute.

_This is one of those times where being undercover sucks. Give me Tony the Tiger any day._

'Turn into that lot Booth,' Brennan's voice came through the ear piece, interrupting his vivid recollection of a red and then black dress paired with a sultry, smoky voice. 'And Booth? I can hear you changing gears.'

'Learning to drive a huge semi-trailer like this takes _time_ alright Bones? I was given a grand total of ten minutes. Let's count our lucky stars I'm a quick learner.'

'Your SUV is big as well,' Brennan pointed out. Booth refused to dignify that with a comment. So far Sweets had remained quiet, something which both appeased and annoyed Booth. Whenever the boy psychologist was silent, it usually meant he was plucking some other absurd theory about Brennan and him out of thin air.

Booth cut off the ignition, thankful he hadn't run over or into anything while parking the damn thing. Tugging absently at his jacket, Booth opened the door of the cabin.

'Make sure you act all casual and cool when you get inside.'

'Thank you Sweets. It's not like this is my first time ever-'

'Did you brush your teeth?' Brennan's abrupt question steamrolled right over Sweets.

'For the last time Bones – I'm paying the guy. I'm not actually asking him to _do _anything.' Booth resisted the urge to shudder. 'I still say we should have sent in Sweets. Pretty boy like him be like chum to these…ladies.'

'I resent that Agent Booth,' Sweets replied.

'No. Booth is right. Your effeminate features do seem to lean towards-'

Hearing Sweets irate reply, and Brennan's terse answer, Booth smiled as he pushed open the door to the café. So long as those two weren't getting too comfortable.

'I'm inside,' Booth whispered.

'Okay. Now makes sure when you pick up the mouthwash, it's displayed prominently,' Sweets advised.

'I don't even want to know how you know that Sweets,' Booth said out of the corner of his mouth, gently picking up a bottle of Listerine from the shelf. He noticed the extremely well-made up and well-endowed women crowding the truckers at the back run their eyes over his form appreciatively. One in particular, dark-skinned and with a scrap of red silk trying to contain her chest, peered at him suggestively through her bangs. Booth was proud he managed a weak smile.

'That it?' The woman behind the counter asked him, raising what he thought was a judgmental eyebrow.

'Yeah,' Booth responded tightly.

'You know Dr Sweets, Michel Foucault wrote an excellent treatise on sexuality. He likened the Greeks appetite for men and women to be the norm, but emphasized the when two men entered a relationship, special boundaries should be set to demarcate their union from that of a man and woman,' Brennan lectured.

'I'm walking out of the café now,' Booth made sure his voice was low as he tried to shove the Listerine into a pocket inside his jacket.

'Dr Brennan, are you trying to say that you're against the idea of two men being in a relationship together?' Sweets asked.

'Not at all,' Brennan replied, sounding offended. 'As an anthropologist, I simply see it as another form of attachment developed over the ages. The barriers that modern society place on sexuality is ludicrous. The homosexual and transgender communities have consistently been caricatured by the media and especially politicians to represent a threat to our social mores. Not only is that highly misinformed, I also regard their arguments that marriage is an institution meant for two members of the opposite sex as archaic.'

'Thanks for that PBS announcement Bones.'

'If anything, Booth should be the one with homophonic tendencies. I'm pretty sure there's something in the Bible that warns against members of the Catholic Church from participating in such satanic activities,' Brennan continued.

'Hey! What did I say about saying stuff like that, huh Bones?'

'No. She brings up an interesting point Agent Booth. It's apparent that this whole excursion is highly uncomfortable for you,' Sweets pointed out.

'Look,' Booth began tersely, coming to a stop outside the door to his semi. 'If two people are in love, they're in love. Doesn't matter if they're both guys.'

Brennan made a noise of surprise. 'I never thought you would see such things that way Booth.'

'Yeah well, I'm just full of surprises.'

'Hey there handsome. You must be real lonely if you're out here talking to yourself.' Booth spun around to see the African-American man/woman who had been eyeing him in the café. She walked up to him, running a finger down his chest. 'Shawna can think of ways to keep you occupied.'

_Damn._

Slowly taking her finger off his shirt, Booth swallowed discretely.

'No offence. But I prefer my men shorter. And blonde. And, you know, less black?' Booth rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Shawna didn't seem to take offence.

'I got a friend for you handsome. But do Shawna a favour and leave a real good tip huh?' Saying that, she winked and tottered off in her high heels and indecently short skirt.

_This is gonna leave some emotional scars. I can already tell._

It wasn't that Booth didn't like gays or lesbians or transvestites calling themselves Cher. He didn't have a problem letting two men in love have the same rights a husband and wife did. Their relationship was no different, in his opinion.

He just preferred women.

'I'm getting in the cabin,' Booth grunted, hoisting himself up into the cramped space, hoping Dale would appear so this damn thing could be over.

'If I was a prostitute, I would have been extremely offended by what Booth said.'

'But you're _not _a prostitute Bones. So let's just get over it already.'

'I would make a more than adequate prostitute!' Brennan defended herself. 'Sweets, do you think I'm attractive?'

'What?'

'Do you find me sexually appealing?' Brennan demanded.

'Err…yes?' Sweets had obviously decided that Brennan was the greater threat at the moment.

'Hey. Just because you're twelve doesn't mean you can disrespect my partner alright Sweets?'

'Wha – _She asked me if_-'

'Why? Are you disagreeing with Sweets Booth?'

'Yeah Bones, of course I think you're hot,' Booth blurted out without thinking, mind already stretched thin. He heard Sweets make a small sound of interest.

'Oh.' This seemed to give his partner pause. Booth wanted to kick himself.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid. Give your psychologist ammo why don't you? As if Cullen telling me that Bones and I are in 'Couples Therapy' wasn't bad enough…_

'Thank you.' Brennan recovered quickly. 'I have also been told that I have excellent control over my hips.'

As Sweets stuttered, Booth pushed the images that were coming to mind quickly to the side. No need to give Dale encouragement when he got here.

'I see Dale!' Sweets exclaimed, sounding relieved when Brennan stopped telling him about how she had picked up some belly dancing skills while in the Middle East. A knock on his door almost made Booth groan in respite.

_Almost there._

The door opened to reveal Dale, bleached blonde hair and pasty white skin all matching the description they had been given.

'I'm Shawna's friend,' he saw fit to tell Booth, climbing onto the seat next to Booth who suddenly felt the space constrict even more. 'Thirty dollars for oral and fifty for anything you want.'

'He sounds suspiciously underpriced for a prostitute,' Brennan commented as Booth made sure to put the book on the dashboard in line of Dale's sight. Noticing Dale's interest, Booth spoke.

'You read that? Good huh?'

'Yeah,' Dale replied, pausing. 'That's me you know? Sweetness?'

Booth managed to give him a quick look of disbelief before chuckling skeptically. 'Sure pal, whatever you say.' He fished out the fifty dollars from his back pocket, handing it over to Dale.

Dale appeared enraged for a minute when he accepted his payment. But it passed quickly as he reached down and started to undo his pants.

'Hold on a sec,' Booth hurriedly brought out the cuffs from his side, making sure to flash his badge along the way. Dale's eyes widened but Booth managed to grab hold of the neck of his shirt.

'Andy Dale, you're under arrest for the suspicion of homicide,' Booth started, reading him his Miranda as Dale struggled and protested and spat profanities. Booth simply rolled his eyes.

'I'm gonna need that fifty bucks back,' Booth told him, shoving him none too gently out onto the gravel lot. Hearing Brennan and Sweets discuss how prostitutes actually determined their rates, Booth roughly stuffed Dale into the back of a waiting unmarked sedan containing Charlie and another agent. Banging his fist two times, he watched the brown vehicle pull away from the curb.

Breathing in deeply, Booth marched over to the SUV, glad to see that they had left the driver's side clear for him.

'That was extremely informative,' Sweets said.

Turning around in his seat, ignoring Brennan's amused look, Booth pinned the younger man down with a steely glare.

'If any of this becomes a case study for your book, I'll shoot you.'

Sweets swallowed.


End file.
